


The Eve of St. Agnes

by asuralucier



Series: Live and Learn [2]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Charles sleeps with a teenager, Charles' A+ parenting, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, M/M, Mention of Minor Character Death, Mention of Underage Sex, X-Men: First Class (2011), poor Moira kind of, poor everyone still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:37:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asuralucier/pseuds/asuralucier
Summary: Erik Lehnsherr does not fade with time and maybe history repeats itself. Charles Xavier is only inevitably a horrible person.The Eve of St. Agnesrelies heavily on its prequelSongs of Innocence and Experience, please read that first if you haven’t already done so!





	The Eve of St. Agnes

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Keats' poem of the same name. A edited and reposted fic from 2011.

It might be a tragedy, when one didn’t know when lies ended and truths began. Charles Xavier thought he had lost the distinction a long time ago. He was twenty-three, and his life was built on lies and wit. But mostly lies. Lies were easier. Erik had taught him that, along with all the other things. But tragedies only took shape when people devoted time to worry about them, and Charles didn't have that sort of leisure time. 

The room was dark, but Charles could make out a naked figure on his bed. Her skin looked smooth, and she knew if he touched her, he’d really know for himself. His fingers itched. 

“Aren’t you coming?” She said. 

Charles did not approve of most of Raven’s friends, but she was almost seventeen, and didn’t give a fuck about anything he had to say. It was a natural hazard. He especially didn’t approve of Angel Salvadore. Angel was only sixteen, but she had a cousin or something that specialized in fake IDs and she danced at a strip bar on weekends. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I want to have sex with you, Charles.” She smiled invitingly, showing her teeth. “I practice every weekend for you. And I know you look at me.” 

He looked at her, yes, but out of contempt, mostly because he knew what she really was. It was disgusting. 

Charles stepped in his bedroom and closed his door quietly behind him. He did not turn the lock. Angel didn’t flinched when he looked her over, either. She was used to men looking at her, and she liked it. 

“Put on your clothes, Angel.” 

Angel got up from his bed and put her arms around him, “Come on, Charles. Don’t be like that. Raven says you’re not a prude with your girlfriend.” 

He felt her press against him, and her bare breasts rubbed against the soft cotton of his shirt, “Maybe it’s because Moira is my girlfriend.” 

“Raven says you just use Moira for her money,” Angel kissed his ear. “I’m so much better than her.” One of her hands reached down to grab his crotch. “Let me prove it to you.” 

Charles grabbed her wrist, and squeezed it hard until she winced. “You will put on your clothes. I don’t want to tell you twice. I’m not who you think I am.” 

Angel said, “Apparently not.” 

He waited until she’d left to climb on his bed. Her scent was there, thick and sweet. Charles breathed it in, and closed his eyes. 

 

Angel never came by their apartment again after that, and that was just fine with Charles. 

Charles waited two weeks, before he said to Raven, “I do not use Moira for her money. I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t tell your friends things that aren’t true.”

Raven was in a tank top and a skirt that barely covered her up appropriately, “Admit it, Charles, you wouldn’t have looked at her a second time if you didn’t know she was next in line of McTaggert Securities. And you know her Uncle Hendrey is going to kick the bucket any day now.” 

McTaggert Securities was one of the largest security firms in the country. They had yearly contracts with the a number of corporate banks, although their working Headquarters was in Seattle, Washington and Glasgow, Scotland. It was good to be inconspicuous that way. “We needed the money then, Raven. We don’t, now.” 

“You,” Raven said, picking a strawberry from a container in the fridge and sucked thoughtfully on it. “Are so fucking frustrating.” 

“Language, young lady.” It was more of a reflex, than anything. “And eat something more fulfilling for breakfast.” 

“You’re not my father,” she said. 

For a moment, Charles thought of Erik Lehnsherr, a man who still haunted him every day. He thought about that day on the phone, when he had heard Raven’s voice, something that he’d always meant to tell her, and yet never found the time. “You’re right, I’m nothing like him. Go to school, you’re going to be late.” 

“I don’t know how late I’m going to be tonight. I have a date,” she slammed the door soundly on her way out.

 

Charles went to work. It was true that his relationship with Moira had earned him a small office on the second floor, where he was given the decidedly vague title of Assistant Director of Intercommunications. He’d spend the morning on some mindless paperwork, and then he’d spend afternoon in meetings, also mindless. 

“Hey, Charles,” Moira poked her head into his office, she was a whole three years older than he was, but he supposed he was as convenient for her as she was for him. “Was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch?” 

“Sounds lovely,” he said. “Just let me finish this one up.” 

“Sure,” she stood next to him and watched as he punched things into the computer. Moira was standing close enough so that Charles could smell her shampoo, Moira smelled stately and subtle, and she was nothing like Angel. “You look tired, Charles.” 

Her hand was on his shoulder, and he put his own hand over it, “I’ve had a long night. And I think Raven’s bringing someone home for me to meet tonight.” 

“How old is she, again?” 

“Almost seventeen.” Still two months away, but Raven was fond of saying ‘almost seventeen,’ somewhere along the way, Charles had gotten into the habit, too. 

“Would you like me to be there with you?” 

Charles looked at her. He knew she was only trying to be helpful, but her helpfulness was grating, “I’ve dealt with her for the last six years of my life, Moira. I don’t need you.” 

Her face fell, but Charles quickly added, “Lunch? You’ve converted me to that Greek deli we went to last week.” 

 

Since Raven had a date, and didn’t know how late she was going to be, Charles treated himself to a few drinks at a bar he sometimes frequented. He collected numbers from some college co-eds and tossed them in the street while he was driving home. 

There was a car he didn’t recognize parked in the other space that his particular apartment was designated. The spot was for Raven, once she’d gotten her license, but Charles was very keen on finding excuses to not take her to the DMV. Besides, Seattle’s public transits were very useful.

The apartment was dark, but he could hear music coming from Raven’s room down the end of the hall. Something poppy, with heavy bass. Charles did not understand teenagers and their sense of music. Raven had asked him for money to go to a Katy Perry concert once, he’d vehemently refused. 

He opened the door, luckily for him, his bedroom was the only room that had a lock. 

Charles saw Raven with her bra unhooked and her panties halfway down her near her knees. She had her legs wrapped around a guy -- who thankfully still had his boxers mostly on. From the view he had, Charles guessed the boy worked out on a regular basis, and he had blond hair. He could glean not much else. 

“Oh my God, Charles.” Raven shoved the guy away from her and dove for her sheets to cover herself up. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” 

Charles went over to her computer and clicked a few buttons, the music stopped. “The music was loud,” He could feel the faint beginnings of a migraine at the back of his head, “I don’t want the neighbors calling in to complain. Again. Put on some clothes.” (This was starting to seem familiar.) 

“I uh, I think I should leave,” said the boy that Raven had brought home. 

Raven said, “Yeah, I think you should.” 

Charles said, “Neither of you are going anywhere. I’ll be waiting in the living room.” 

“Charles --” 

“Don’t argue with me,” he left her room. There was bourbon under the kitchen sink, the good kind. 

 

Raven and Alex dressed, and took a seat on the sofa that Moira had given him for his birthday a month ago. Imported from Venice. Charles took a seat in the armchair. He was a bit gratified to see that they weren’t touching. 

Finally, the silence got to be too much, and Raven said, “...Okay, before you overreact like you always do? Alex and I haven’t done anything.” 

“Except get naked,” Charles said dryly. “And who knows what else. Were you planning to use protection?” 

“Oh, God, Charles,” Raven turned her face away from him. “Don’t ask me that.” 

The boy -- Alex spoke up, “I had condoms, if it came to that.” 

Charles needed more bourbon, “You’ve had sex before?” He had no right to judge them, given his own crude history, but at least they could have been smarter about it. 

Raven made another embarrassed sound in her hands, but didn’t say anything. 

Alex said, ‘Yes.” and then he said, “May I go now?” When he got up, his steps were wobbly. Charles got up too and grabbed his arm. 

“You’re drunk.” Which meant Raven had to be, too. Alex reeked of the bad beer he kept in the fridge. The rule was that Raven was welcome to it, as long as Charles couldn’t tell she’d been drinking. “You’re not driving.” 

Alex shook his arm away, “I’ve done this lots of times.” 

The sex or the drunk driving? “Not when I know about it, you’re not.” Charles held out his hand, refusing to remember that he’d driven home mostly tipsy. Besides, the kid was underage, the rules were different. “Keys.” 

“You’re not doing this,” Alex said. 

There was a bulge in the boy’s right pocket, Charles reached in and pulled out the keys. “Yes, I am. You can get them from me in the morning.” He turned to head down the hallway, “Raven, get Alex a pillow. He can sleep on the couch.” 

 

He kept his ears open for sounds coming from Raven’s room, but Charles heard nothing. Finally, there was a knock. 

“Raven?” 

“Alex,” came the voice on the other side of the door. 

Charles put his book down and went to the door, “I’m not going to give your keys back.” 

Alex smirked, “Don’t want them, yet, anyway.” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He was not as wobbly as before, but Charles could still smell the liquor clinging to every inch of him. 

“Then what do you want?” 

“Raven’s a virgin,” said Alex. “I haven’t done anything to your sister. I try not to mess around with virgins anyway. Hate the way they cling.” 

Charles sat down at the edge of his bed, “Thank you?” He was glad to hear that Raven wasn’t quite following in his footsteps just yet, but he wasn’t sure how to react to Alex. 

“Thank you,” Alex mused, as if he didn’t quite understand Charles’ reply. “That’s it? You’re not going to ask me anything else?” 

“...If I hadn’t come home, would you have slept with her?” 

Alex thought for a minute, “Maybe,” he said. “If she wanted it. I don’t like virgins but I can deal.” 

Alex made his head hurt, “Then why are you dating her?” 

“We’re not dating,” Alex laughed, as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Oh, God no. How old are you? You don’t look forty.” 

Charles tried not to let that sting, and mostly failed, “Because I’m not. I’m twenty-three.” 

“Are you a virgin?” 

“I -- excuse me?” 

Alex looked at him, like how one would look at a piece of gum stuck under his shoe, “You’re more concerned with her virginity than you should be. Fuck, she’s almost seventeen.” 

“Still sixteen,” Charles reminded him. Kids forgot these things. 

“Same difference to me,” said Alex. “But if you’re still a virgin, the fact that she isn’t going to be bugs you, doesn’t it?” 

“I’m not a virgin,” said Charles. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.” 

He felt a weight settle in his lap, and glanced up to see Alex only two inches away from his face, “It isn’t. But it’s ridiculous when blue balls make you cockblock your sister. When was the last time you got laid?” 

Alex smelled like bad beer, something that Charles distinctly hated, but something else clung to him too, something Charles couldn’t name, or else he might decide that he liked it. 

“Three days ago,” he said. It was more like last Friday, more than a week ago. Charles owed this kid nothing, she didn't have to tell the truth. He didn’t know anything. 

Alex cupped his face, and his hands were deceptively gentle, “I think you are lying.” 

“I’m not lying,” said Charles. “Please don’t touch me.” 

“You haven’t been happy for years, Charles,” said Alex, his voice very soft. “You think you’re being all brilliant hiding it from her, but you haven’t. She thinks it’s all her fault.” 

“It isn’t,” Charles closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “If the two of you are not dating, why does she tell you all this?” 

“She’s lonely,” Alex said. “And she knows that you’ve sacrificed a lot of things for her. Girls tend to tell me things. You’re not even dating a woman you like.” 

“I’m not dating Moira for her money,” Charles looked away. 

Alex smirked, “Oh, so it is. Money. My old man owns hotels. Summers Resort and Spa. I think they’re opening one up in Orlando next week.” 

“I can tell that your old man owns hotels by your car,” Charles said. Alex’s car appeared to be a barely working piece of junk. That was putting it generously. 

“My old man doesn’t like to remember that I exist. But every once in a while, I can blackmail him for a check. It’s easy,” Alex leaned forward and kissed him. “...This turns you on, Charles.” 

And the worst thing was, Alex was right. Charles sucked on a deep breath and let it out, “I do not sleep with my sister’s boyfriends.” He was not like Erik. He couldn’t be. But then again, Alex Summers was not Charles at sixteen; he already knew all sorts of things that he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Lucky for you, I’m not your sister’s boyfriend.” 

“Alex, get out.” Charles reached back to dig into the top drawer of his end table. It took him a minute to fish out Alex’s keys, only because his hands were shaking. “Take your keys and go.” 

The boy took his keys from him, “Charles --” 

“Go.” 

Charles waited a good fifteen minutes, then he walked down to the garage, Alex’s car was gone. The back of his eyes felt hot for no good reason.

 

The next morning, Charles insisted on driving Raven to school. He was trying to make up for something, he just wasn’t sure what. “Promise me you won’t see Alex Summers again.” 

“Charles, what’s wrong with you?” Raven frowned at him, “I told you, I’m not even dating him. It was just a hookup. Being the only virgin out of my friends is so embarrassing. You lost it early, right?” 

“I’m different from you,” Charles said. “And I wasn’t proud of it.” He wasn’t ready to have this conversation with her. “Don’t be like me.” 

Raven looked at him for a very long time, “I won’t see Alex,” she said softly. “I promise.” 

He didn’t believe her, but kissed her cheek and sent her to school. Raven was a little girl who grew up too fast. 

 

Alex Summers had a record that was unsealed after a few well-placed phone calls. He’d been arrested twice, once for shoplifting, and once for drug possession with intent to sell. He’d served two months in juvenile detention before he was let out for good behavior. Alex’s father did indeed own a chain of resorts. Every few months, Christopher Summers would write Alex a check for twenty thousand dollars, reminding him not to be a public embarrassment. 

Charles was right to hate him on sight. 

 

When Charles had sex with Moira, he usually closed his eyes and thought of Erik. Erik with his obscene moans, and the way his fingers made red marks on his skin. Moira was soft and a woman. 

_“I will touch you however you like. Just tell me how you like.”_

_“Your hands here there everywhere.”_

_“You don’t like my mouth?”_

A sharp knock pulled Charles away from Erik’s hands and wicked mouth. The reality was that Charles was huddled in Moira’s bathroom trying not to make any noise. 

“Charles? Are you okay in there?” 

He pulled on his pants and went to open the door, “Fine. I just. I must have ate something funny. Did I wake you?” 

Moira’s expression flickered in the dark, “No, but the bed is cold without you in it.” 

He followed her back to bed, and let her settle herself in his arms, “I was coming back, you know. It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I was just in your bathroom.” Or, more accurately, Charles was just hiding in her bathroom thinking of Erik Lehnsherr while touching his own cock. None of it mattered very much. He hoped she didn’t smell anything on him. 

Moira turned to him and kissed his jaw, “Uncle Hendrey isn’t well.” 

“So I’ve heard, I’m sorry.” 

“He really likes you, you know. If anything happened to him...” Moira trailed off. After a moment, she decided that she wasn’t wording any of this right, and started over, “Have you ever thought about getting married?” 

“I,” Charles started. Suddenly, his life with Moira McTaggart flashed before his eyes. He would be filthy rich, and a miserable old fuck. If they had any kids, the kids would probably end up like Alex Summers. 

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Moira. Please go to sleep.” 

 

Raven had left her phone in the living room. The door to her bedroom was closed, but that was fine. Charles had vetted Hank McCoy before he even stepped into the apartment. He was a senior who was looking at the Ivies for Mechanical Engineering. Harvard was his absolute favorite, but He wouldn’t mind UPenn, either. He was offering to tutor Raven in Pre-Calculus for free, which was really a nice gesture. 

Charles scrolled through her contacts and found _Alex Summers_.

He retreated to his own bedroom and dialed the number. 

“Who’s this?” 

Charles took a deep breath, “This is Charles Xavier.” 

“As in -- Raven’s older brother Charles,” Alex’s voice trailed off on a incredulous note. “Why the hell do you have my number? Because you know, I already said --” 

“That’s not important.” 

“Are you harassing me?” 

“No, I was wondering if I could buy you a cup of coffee. I'd like to apologize.” That was not what he meant to say, but apparently Charles’ subconscious had been thinking about inviting Alex Summers out for coffee. The rest of his brain wasn’t aware of this.

“Oh,” Alex sounded amused now. “So, just hitting on me. I can deal with that. Starbucks’?” 

“Now?” said Charles. 

“Of course now, you’re going to change your mind later,” there was a soft shuffling on the other end; as if Alex was getting dressed. “There’s one near school. I can be there in fifteen.” 

Charles hung up. 

He left the bedroom and knocked on her door, “Raven?” 

But it was Hank that opened the door, “Sorry, I’m timing her for something. Are we bothering you?” 

Charles looked Hank up and down again, “No, not at all. I’m just going out to get some coffee, and I wanted to let the two of you know.” 

“Bye, Charles,” Raven said without looking up. Charles had never seen her so interested in math before. 

“No funny business,” Charles couldn’t resist tossing over his shoulder. 

“Fuck you, Charles.” 

He closed the door. Behind the door, he could hear Hank -- “Are you sure it’s okay to talk to your brother like that?” 

 

Alex had tell-tale bloodshot eyes. He was also wearing a t-shirt that smelled several days old, like Alex had just dug it out from under his bed at the last minute. 

“Have you been smoking pot?” 

“Genius brilliant, you.” Alex’s head lolled dangerously to one side. “Did you smell it?” 

“No, but I went through university,” said Charles. 

“How’s the sex in college?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t have much of it.” This was what happened when you had a little sister to look after, two jobs to work, classes to take. Charles could count his university conquests on one hand. Sharon for whatever reason hadn't cut off Charles' access to Brian's money, but Charles believed in hard work. 

Alex peered at him, “Why’d you call me out here?” 

“I thought you’d get it,” Charles said. “You out of everyone else I know. Because you’re almost as miserable as I am.” 

 

Alex rented an apartment with his friend Armando Munoz. Armando only popped in sometimes to sleep. He worked two jobs and volunteered at the local hospital. Armando came from old money, said Alex, but he didn’t want to feel useless. 

Alex kept his stash in a small tin stuffed inside an old sock. With unsurprising efficiency, he rolled a blunt and lit it. “Here, smoke this, you’ll feel better.” 

Charles did. He didn’t know if the marijuana made him feel any better, but it did allow Alex to take off most of his clothes and put his mouth everywhere on his body. Alex’s mouth was nothing like Erik’s. 

“-- Why are you doing this?” Charles asked him, grabbing a fistful of blond hair to get the boy’s attention, “Aren’t I old and forty?” 

Alex looked thoughtful, with one of his hands halfway down Charles’ pants. “What, you don’t want to?” 

“It’s not that.” 

“Oh, relax, you’re not thirty. When you’re thirty, I’m not even going to look at you.” Alex tugged his pants down. “Here --” Somehow, they both managed to get to their feet and walk ten feet to Alex’s bed. 

Charles breathed in smoke, liquor. He bit into Alex’s neck leaving a mark. Alex was filthy and young. Charles was never like this at all. He still was not like them. He was never going to be like them. 

Alex thrust into him and groaned someone else’s name, the syllables were jumbled and lost. But that was all right because Charles closed his eyes and moved with Erik’s eyes on him. It was always Erik, always. Erik was the one who’d ruined him for everything.

“Like this, don’t you?”

Charles bit his tongue and tasted blood when he came. 

Later, they lay on the bed not touching, Alex tossed over a light smirk, “For someone who doesn’t get around, you’re not bad.” 

Charles rolled over on his side and studied the boy’s face. After sex, his face was still miserable. Charles suddenly had the completely irrational want to cling to the boy and tell him all his secrets. About how it was Erik’s fault that Charles was a horrible person. He was supposed to be better than this. Somehow, he didn’t think Alex would get that. Guilt was different from misery. 

Instead, he leaned over and kissed Alex on the forehead and found a spare sheet. “Get some sleep. I should get going.” 

Before Charles left the room, Alex said, “By the way, Raven lost her virginity a couple days ago. To this nerd idiot Hank McCoy. He bragged about it.” 

 

Because Charles was endlessly paranoid, he drove around for an extra fifteen minutes waiting for the smell of Alex and the weed to wear off before he went home. Since Alex had warned him that this “nerd idiot” Hank McCoy was defiling his sister, he supposed that he should be in more of a hurry. 

Raven opened the door before he had time to fumble for his keys and smiled, “Hank’s making tomales.” 

Charles blinked, “What?” Maybe the weed hadn’t completely worn off yet. 

“Hank,” she said. “You know, my friend Hank who you wouldn’t let in the door until he told you he was going to Harvard. Is making tomales.” 

Her friend Hank. Raven was too young to be having friends with benefits. Charles tucked that lecture away to be delivered at another time. 

Hank appeared behind her, “Hope you don’t mind? I guess I’m sort of inviting myself to dinner because I commandeered your kitchen.” His smile was open and honest. No one could smile like that. 

“I don’t mind,” said Charles. “Have at it.” 

He went to the bathroom and promptly threw up. 

 

Despite what Alex told him about Hank, Charles found that he liked Hank. His tomales weren’t bad at all, and Raven seemed to worship the ground he walked on for the better. 

Charles let them walk down to the garage together, and told Hank that he was welcome anytime, if he wanted. After that, he went into his bedroom and closed the door. Under his bed, he kept an old shoebox with all the things he’d rather forget about. 

One of the wrinkled papers was a copy of Erik Lehnsherr’s driver’s license. He had no record, except one, when he was arrested for a DUI. He attended the Humbolt University of Berlin and had graduated with Philosophy and Physics. He’d been working as a car mechanic. He’d married a Magda Popescu when she got pregnant at seventeen. He’d been twenty. Their daughter Raven disappeared when she was ten, no charges were ever filed. She wasn’t even reported missing. 

Erik divorced Magda and a few years later married Emma Frost. Then he divorced her too; they had no children together. The current address listed for Erik wasn’t a place that Charles recognized, but if he had to guess, he’d say it was somewhere in Manhattan. 

“Charles?” His door was rattling. “Charles, let me in.” 

Charles quickly stuffed everything back inside the shoebox and opened the door, “Raven. Is everything all right?” 

“Can I talk to you?” 

She looked lost. Charles never looked lost, but he never stopped feeling that way after Erik Lehnsherr, “Okay. Come on.” He led her over to the bed. 

There was a long pause. She toyed with her hair, and he waited. 

“I had sex with Hank, at his house.” 

Charles took a deep breath, “ -- Did you use a condom?” He was a little surprised that Alex actually told him the truth. 

“Of course we did,” Raven knotted her fingers together. “And I --” Then her face crumpled, “Hank said he wanted nothing to do with me. That he was going to places like Harvard and UPenn and I was just going to be in the way. He said that I was a mistake. He said I was a _child_ , and he said --” 

Charles took her in his arms and rocked her, “Shh, it’s okay.” 

“No, Charles, it’s not,” she sniffled loudly. “It’s not. He can’t do this to me.” 

He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, “Forgive him. I’ve done much worse things to you, and you’ve forgiven me.” Perhaps if she forgave Hank, and saw him as the boy he was, life would be easier for her. Charles didn’t know, he hadn’t forgiven Erik. He’d told himself on the train when he was sixteen, that he would do whatever it take to make sure that Raven’s life was right. 

“Forgive you for what? Charles, I saw you in college, how hard you worked. I know you couldn’t go to any parties. You had to miss that midterm to take me to the hospital that one time, and I know you still date Moira for her money. You’re not happy, Charles. How can a life like yours ever be happy?” 

He handed her a tissue and she blew her nose. Then she folded it in half and blew her nose again. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

Charles waited until a heavy silence had settled, “ -- The life I want, it isn’t a happy one, either. I’d rather be here with you.” He meant it. He had to mean it. 

 

Moira looked at him, “You want to fly to New York?” 

“Just for a couple of days,” Charles said, “Please.” He didn’t know why he was asking for permission, maybe he was asking for something else entirely and couldn’t find the right words. “It’s important to me. I will never ask you for anything like this again.” 

Moira frowned, “Charles, when we first met. You told me that who you were wasn’t important. And you asked me not to ask you anything about that --” 

Charles said, “Yes, it has to do with that. But don’t ask me. Let me go to New York. And then I’ll come back.” He inhaled deeply, “All he wanted to do was run away and not come back to this place. “If you still want to talk about getting married, we’ll talk about it. I promise.” 

“Charles --” 

“I've already booked my plane for Thursday evening.” Thursday was tomorrow. “I will call you.” 

 

He’d chosen Thursday night, because Raven had to babysit nine-year-old Jean Gray a block over. Charles got out the shoebox, and taped a post-it on the lid. 

_Gone to New York on business. Will return Sunday. If you’re not here when I return, I will understand. I wish you a happy, fulfilling life._

_All my love, Charles._

After that, he wrote her a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. If that wasn’t enough, he knew Moira had a soft spot for Raven, although Raven had never taken to Moira. But if there was one thing that Moira McTaggart had taught both of them, it was that she was good for her money.

Alex’s reaction upon seeing Charles was, “ -- Who died?” 

“No one.” 

The traffic headed towards the airport was bad, and that was bad because Alex got bored. Teenagers always got bored, but their collective angst as a generation was fascinating. 

“So what’s in New York?” 

Charles looked at the other cars crawling by, “Raven’s father.” 

“So your old man too,” Alex said. 

“She and I aren’t related,” it felt odd, after all this time telling someone. And of all people Charles could have told, he chose to tell Alex Summers, a good for nothing who was about to flunk out of high school. “I had an affair with her father. Erik was dating my mother.” It was strange, finally calling it that, but that was what it was. 

Even Alex had to take a minute to process everything he’d been told.

“So your mother was a hag,” he said finally as the car crawled forward two inches. “And you stole her married boyfriend. You’re even worse than me.” 

Maybe it was because Charles already knew Alex wouldn’t turn the other cheek just to be polite. “I never ended up in juvenile detention.” 

Alex laughed, “So you did look me up.” 

“I wanted to know what kind of kid was defiling my little sister, you can’t exactly blame me, can you?” He sounded noticeably less sharp than he ought to. 

“No, I guess I can’t,” Alex glanced at him. “Why exactly do you want to see him, again? I mean, it's fucked up. You're out of it now?” 

“I want to know that I’m not as bad as he is. I need to know.” 

There was another long silence, “I know it’ll probably mean shit coming from me,” said Alex. “But Raven stayed with you. Your life is miserable. You have this deluded sense that you have to be the best for everybody.” Then he broke off and laughed, “Hell, even someone like me. You’re so much better, Charles.” 

At the airport, Charles hugged Alex goodbye for a very long time. Alex didn't try to kiss him.

 

Charles was beginning to lose his resolve. He’d had the taxi driver drive around the block a full three times, before the man got impatient. 

“Just get out.” 

Taxi fares were more expensive than he remembered; Charles handed over the money and watched the cab whip around the curb. Erik’s apartment building looked small and cramped, like everything else in the city. 

There was an elevator going up in the lobby, but it was old and out of order. Charles walked five flights of stairs and stopped in front of Apartment 504. He stood there, idly wondering whether he should knock, when the door opened. A young man with startling blue eyes ran past him, looking only half-dressed. 

A moment later, a man that had to be Erik came to the door, though Charles had to look twice to make absolutely sure. The man seemed too old and too lonely, “Wesley? You left your -- Charles.” Just like that, Wesley was forgotten. Charles wondered if he’d ever been forgotten so quickly in the blink of an eye.

It’d been almost seven years, but after seven years, all Charles really wanted to do was cling to the man and weep. 

“...I’m surprised you recognize me.” 

Erik stepped back into his apartment, and Charles followed him. The place looked like a bachelor’s death trap, and probably was. 

“Took me a moment,” Erik admitted, picking his way to the small kitchen. “Something to drink?” 

Charles didn’t exactly want anything, but Erik poured him wine in a glass, it tasted stale. 

“Are you back here for your mother?” said Erik. 

For whatever reason, Erik stayed, and his own mother had easily faded away. Charles hadn’t thought about her since getting on the train. He pressed his lips against the rim of the glass, “What happened to her?” 

“Cancer got her too, like your father. The funeral was two weeks ago?" As if Erik was questioning himself. 

“Were you there?” Judging by how uncertain the man sounded, Charles guessed no. 

“We stopped speaking the day you left. I went to see her once, and she wouldn’t see me.” 

Not that it really mattered. Charles put down the wine; his head was spinning. 

There was a heavy silence. 

“Your daughter’s doing well. I put her in private school. She’ll start college applications next fall.” Coming here was not a good idea. 

Erik cocked an eyebrow, “She stayed with you.” Then he said, “Well, I suppose Raven would have.” 

Charles clenched his fists, “You never even looked for her.” 

“I went home once, she mentioned a nice boy named Charles at the library. Brought her waffles that reminded her of my cooking. She said the both of you were going to run away, one day.” 

“So you _knew_. And you kept fucking me.” It seemed unbelievable then, and it was just as ridiculous now. 

“Charles, at sixteen, you were --” Erik broke off abruptly. “You understood things. If you’d been anyone else...I couldn’t have told you any of those things. I loved you. If I told you everything, then you wouldn’t have stayed.” 

Erik loved him. Charles let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. Erik Lehnsherr loved him. He had to look away. 

“You were going to be everything I couldn’t be, but I wanted so badly to keep you with me. I couldn’t have ever told you.” 

“I don’t know how to forgive you,” said Charles. “I don’t know if I want to.” How much of that was true, he wasn’t sure.

“Then don’t forgive me,” Erik looked at him, his eyes seemed deep and hollow, like he was dead. 

Charles walked a few steps to where Erik sat. He reached out to touch the man’s face, and Erik closed his eyes.

Charles said, “I wanted to see if I’d become a better man.” _Better than you_ was left unsaid, but he was sure Erik heard its echo all the same. 

Erik put his arms around him and kissed him roughly. It was the kind of kiss Charles was going to curl up and cry over for years to come. He already knew it. It was familiar and he could hear the bed creaking next door. 

“If you walk out this door right now, Charles,” Erik ran his thumb over his mouth. The smile that was stretched over his lips was sad and heavy, “You always will be.”

Erik’s hands were warm. And perhaps his eyes were watering. 

Charles took a step back, and then another step. All he really wanted to do was rip off Erik’s clothes. Erik could put his hands and mouth everywhere on his body the way he liked so much, and everything would be all right again. But he knew he couldn’t. 

“Good-bye, Erik.” 

 

“I should come up, get another cup of coffee.” 

Charles just gave him a look. Alex snorted. 

“I’m only kidding. Honest. I'll see you around?” 

Charles got out of the car with his one bag, and Alex drove off. He was beyond exhausted, and thankful that the elevator for their apartment was usually in working order. 

The apartment was dark. Charles went to his own bedroom to put his things away; he was trying to do everything with an exaggerated slowness so he would have an excuse not to check Raven’s room. 

The shoebox was under his bed again. The post-it and the check were nowhere to be found.

Holding his breath, Charles peeked his head into her room. Everything looked more organized than he remembered, but Raven was there in her bed, with her favorite pillow cradled in her arms. 

Charles settled himself very quietly in her soft chair and closed his eyes. He wanted to be right here the moment she woke up.


End file.
